


That boy is a monster

by honeyvenom



Series: Tumblr drabbles [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Marking, Obsession, Unhealthy Relationships, Violent Richie Tozier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-07 23:03:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21465985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyvenom/pseuds/honeyvenom
Summary: Eddie is a lonely doctor trying to bury himself in his work running a small clinic in Derry. He thinks he's doing okay – busy helping people and seeing someone new – until a shadowy figure from his past reemerges.A Richie-is-a-hitman ficlet inspired by Bill Hader in Barry.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Tumblr drabbles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1547413
Comments: 21
Kudos: 316





	That boy is a monster

Eddie’s locking up when he feels it. A prickling at the back of his neck, like fingers ghosting across his skin. Something’s rotten at the heart of Derry, he’s known that since he was a little boy. But sometimes that feeling gets even stronger. Catches him in moments he doesn’t expect.

It doesn’t help that the clinic is off the main road, tucked toward the end of a small street where the homeless and junkies litter like forgotten toys, where the electricity often goes down, plunging Eddie’s office into inky blackness. 

_Just asking for trouble_, he thinks, as his skin pebbles.

That’s when he sees it: something shift in the corner of his eye. He whips around in time to see it loping from the shadows. Something long and dark, prowling toward him with intent.

“Eddie,” the shadow says. 

Eddie’s throat catches, his fingers clasped white around his keys.

“Richie?”

And there he is. Richie Tozier. With his dark hair and strong jaw, shoulders impossibly broad under his jacket, legs still stupidly long.

“The one and only,” he says, grinning.

Eddie’s heart starts to hammer, his skin suddenly too tight. He stares at Richie, wide-eyed, like a weak-kneed girl from a horror film.

“How’s it going? Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Just thought you might be here.”

Eddie somehow manages to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you,” Richie answers. 

“What?”

It’s been a long time since he last saw Richie. 9 months and 12 days. Not that he’s been counting. Not that every day has hurt.

“I was in town and thought I could take you out for a drink, catch up." 

He’s close now, and smiling that shy, little half-smile he always did, hands tucked into his jacket pockets.

But this isn’t okay. Richie shouldn’t be here. Not outside his clinic at midnight.

"My last patient left two hours ago. Were you out here this entire time?”

Richie looks away bashfully, rubs a hand over the back of his neck.

“I wanted to knock, but I wasn’t sure if you’d let me in.”

“You probably got that right.”

Richie looks Eddie over slowly, eyes glinting behind his glasses. Does that thing where the tip of his tongue pokes out between his front teeth.

“You look good, Eddie.” 

“One of has to. You look like shit.”

They both know that’s a lie. But Eddie’s trying his best not to look at Richie too closely. Tries not to look at the dark stubble, at his strong hands. At his cut-glass jawline, or the way his crooked smile is making him feel woozy. 

“You wound me, Doctor Kaspbrak,” Richie says, placing a hand over his heart. “At least I’m not bleeding over you this time.”

A lick of that first night comes back. Richie stabbed in the side, bleeding wildly as he falls into the clinic. Eddie’s nimble fingers sewing him back up, telling him, _no, you can’t light a cigarette in here, are you a complete trash fire?_

He swallows again._ Fuck._

“You didn’t tell me what you were doing back in Derry.”

“I did. I said I came to see you.”

“You came all the way from LA to see me? Kinda long trip.”

“Well I heard the peppermint hot chocolate in Maine was a dream. Remembered a certain someone who liked it.”

And Eddie could speak but he doesn’t trust himself. Not with the way his fingers tremble around his keys, the way Richie is watching the pale column of his neck as he talks.

Richie clears his throat; it comes out like a growl.

“So how about that drink? I’m freezing my ass off. Is that bar still here, the one you like over on Maple? We could find a cosy spot.” 

For one tiny second, Eddie’s tempted, and that frightens him more than anything.

“That’s not a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“You know why.”

Richie steps closer, getting up into Eddie’s space, making him stumble a step back.

“Maybe you should spell it out for me then.”

“Let’s not do this, Richie. I don’t want to play games.”

Richie huffs through his nose, comes even closer. And Eddie feels a clench of fear in his stomach. He wonders if he could unlock the door and get inside, if he would have time to run to the road. If he’d have any chance at all.

But he doesn’t have time to wonder too hard because Richie’s touching him, sliding a hand around his waist. It makes his brain stutter.

“I missed you, Eddie,” he breathes, voice low. “I missed you so fucking much, baby. Thought about you every day.”

Eddie’s gut clenches.

“Don’t call me that. You have no right,” he bites.

“I know I don’t. But I’m here to make it up to you.”

“I don’t want you to make it up to me, Richie. I don’t want anything from you.”

He goes to push Richie away, but the other man just presses closer, backing him up hard so he’s caught between Richie and the clinic door.

“Richie, stop.”

“I told you I wouldn’t be gone forever, just had to get those guys off my back.”

Eddie looks at him sharply.

“What did you do?”

“Doesn’t matter. What does is that they’re never gonna bother us again. I made sure of that. No one’s going to come after us now.”

And Eddie believes him. Because if it’s one thing he knows about Richie Tozier, one thing that cuts through all the lies he spun, is that he’s really good at killing people.

“It doesn’t matter, I still don’t want you.”

“_Liar_,” Richie whispers, nosing along Eddie’s cheek, breath jungle hot against his skin. And Eddie just can’t help it, can’t help tilting his head back as Richie scrapes his face along Eddie’s neck, making his skin prick hot and pink.

“Yeah, baby, that’s it. Show me how much you missed me.”

“No,” Eddie moans, but then Richie’s mouth is at his ear.

“I keep thinking about the night we spent together,” he says, and it’s that raspy voice he used in bed, the one that made him ache all over. “The way you looked under me, how you felt when I finally got inside you.”

“Richie, stop it,” he tries to say, cutting off into a moan as Richie dips beneath his jumper to trail cold fingertips across his waist.

“I’m seeing someone now,” he blurts, desperation souring his voice.

That makes Richie back up a little, not completely, but enough to put some space between them.

And maybe it’s a bit of a lie, Greg has only taken him out twice. Once for coffee, and once for a walk along the lake at twilight, but it had been nice. Pleasant. The complete opposite of anything he had ever experienced with Richie.

“Oh yeah? Who’s that?”

“You think I’m telling you?”

“And you think I care?”

“_What?_”

“Think I give a fuck that you’re seeing some small-town douchebag? Some accountant who thinks getting sexy is wearing a fucking fleece vest?”

Eddie sees red. 

“You don’t know shit, asshole. Get the fuck off me.” His hands come up to shove him away, but that’s when Richie kisses him.

It’s a hard crush of a kiss, as savage and open as a bite. It’s the opposite of the kisses Eddie saw on TV growing up. Where women opened up like petals under a gentle touch. Richie kisses like he’s starving. Like he hasn’t eaten since the moment he last saw Eddie. He gasps when Richie gets his bottom lip between his teeth, tugging on it, crushing it candy-apple red. As soon as his mouth opens to suck in a breath, Richie’s pushing his tongue inside, lapping up his cries.

And Eddie knows this is too much, knows he should stop him, but he just can’t. Because Richie’s tongue is hot and wet in his mouth, and his chest is clenching hard beneath his fingers. Eddie’s fingers scrabble against Richie’s shirt to push him away, but he’s falling deep into the chasm of his kiss. Can’t think properly with the way Richie holds him, arms as tight as a vice.

Richie tastes like smoke and something darker. Like the thick ooze of molasses his aunts would pour over pancakes when he was a child. When he finally breaks away, Eddie whines, embarrasses himself by trying to chase after his mouth.

Richie smirks at him.

“I’m right here, baby, don’t you worry.”

He pushes his nose against the side of Eddie’s jaw until he gets the hint and arches his neck against his mouth. And Richie’s latching onto him like an animal. Eddie falls back against the door; shivers as Richie sucks hard on his skin before scraping his teeth along the vein in his neck, where his pulse trips like a rabbit caught in a trap.

Eddie goes boneless, his body liquid. He hears a distant moaning, high-pitched and wanton, and wonders if it’s him.

“God I couldn’t forget the way you tasted,” Richie groans as he sucks a bruise into his neck. It hurts, too vicious to be sweet, and he knows there’ll be a huge purple mark there when he wakes up in the morning. 

“How long did it take for my marks to fade, huh?” Richie whispers against his spit-slick skin. “Fuck, you were covered in them when I left.”

“I don’t know,“ Eddie says, his voice wreaked. "Some of them took weeks. There was one on my thigh, took forever. Would press my fingers against it just to feel you.”

“_Fuck_,” Richie hisses, shoves his knee between Eddie’s thighs.

Richie breaks away finally, makes Eddie look at him with a firm grasp on his chin.

“I’m at a motel just outside of town. Come with me. Or I could come to yours, whatever. Wanna destroy that little body of yours again.”

Images of them together flash through Eddie’s head. Richie getting him down and pushing inside, the motel mattress buckling under his back as Richie looms over him, taking everything he has. Memories come hot on their heels. The bodies, the bullets. How dark Richie’s eyes were when he saw him naked, the way his kisses always tasted a little of blood.

The thought breaks through the haze, the pictures evaporating like mist.

“I said no, Richie,” and this time he catches Richie off guard, shoves him away. “Get the fuck out of here, I mean it.”

Richie stares at him, his breath a hot gust in the winter cold.

“Eddie, don’t be scared. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I promised I’d never let you touch me again,” Eddie says, voice chattering. “So get the fuck out of here before I call the cops.”

And Eddie thinks that might be it. That he might finally be rid of him. Even if there’s a part of him that calls out. The one that’s been lonely for Richie every night since he left Derry. Despite knowing what he is. What he does for a living.

But Richie just smiles in the way he always does. Like he can see inside him.

“Always such a little dynamo,” he says, rubbing his sleeve across his chin, where it’s covered in Eddie’s spit. “Okay, I get the hint. I’ll be at the Derry motel for the rest of the week if you change your mind.”

“I don’t care where you are, Richie. I never want to see you again.”

Richie digs a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. Lights one without ever taking his eyes off Eddie; as cool as a cucumber even with the long, thick outline of his erection visible through his dark jeans. 

“Sure, baby, your choice. Anyway,” he takes a drag and exhales slowly. “I hope your new boyfriend likes the mark I left on you.”

And with that he’s gone, walking down the street and back into the shadows.

“I’ll see you around, Eddie.” 

He leaves Eddie crumpled against the door, his heart beating a heavy staccato beat. Breathing hard, fists clenches at his sides. He palms the mark on his neck, feels his swollen bottom lip and tries not to fall down. Wonders if he can get through the next week without seeing Richie again. Because there’s something rotten at the heart of Derry, and Richie might be the darkest thing of all.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been watching Barry for the first time, and I thought about a Barry x IT fusion where Richie is a hitman who comes to Derry for an assignment and meets sweet but sassy doctor Eddie.
> 
> I might write more set in this universe if the inspiration strikes.
> 
> Come talk to me on Tumblr at shortcake-kaspbrak


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